


love will set you free

by wisepuma23



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Clingy duo can still win, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), DreamSMP - Fandom - Freeform, Exile, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Haunting, I swear this has a happy ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder Mystery, References to Depression, Trauma, Villain!Dream, consistent chapter lengths WHO, sbi family pog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: Tommy didn't want to die. No really, he didn't! But he couldn't remember how he ended up staring at his own neck broken in a noose, bare feet swinging in his little hovel.No, no, he wasmurdered.He remembered everything about his life from Philza singing him to sleep to getting exiled by his own best friend. There was just a damnblack spotin the last hour of his life. Clearly, he was right. Always. Now he haunted Technoblade, damn pig was the only one who could see him anyway, and try to convince him he was murdered.Just ignore the suicide note and the evidence of his own corpse, come on Techno, I'm notcrazy.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 162
Kudos: 1599
Collections: MCYT Fic Rec





	1. "Far"

**Author's Note:**

> **Content Warnings:** implied/aftermath of suicide, suicidual thoughts, implied depression
> 
> Heed the warnings, guys!!! Also yeah this is gonna have everyone's reactions to Tommy's death. But I swear this has a happy ending!!! There's gonna be SBI feels + Tubbo feels, so buckle up ;A;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Time, I know we're out of time_   
>  _But what if sad thoughts come and I can't stop it_   
>  _Bye, I don't wanna say bye_
> 
> "Karma" by AJR

Tommy packed away the last of the logs into his chest. He’ll put them up later this week, he’s wanted to expand his house lately. Just so it didn’t feel so cramped. Tommy closed the chest with a click. He’ll go back. Someday. He ignored the supplies that argued otherwise. 

Tommy sat back with a huff.

He pulled out a worn picture from his chest pocket. Tubbo beamed up at him, still bright despite the yellowed tinges to it now. His chest squeezed. Big men don’t cry. But what does it matter now, he was all alone.

_The discs (You) don’t matter!_

Tommy’s shoulders shook, damn him. Cold tears dribbled down his cheeks and he wiped them away with the edges of his sleeve. He tucked away the picture. Forget him, what did Tubbo know anyway? 

He turned to glance at the waning sunlight across the floorboards. The tilt that warned of early afternoon with a hint of rain. The back of his neck prickled. Definitely rain later. Tommy stood up, maybe he could fish for dinner before the storm breaks. 

He wobbled.

“Fuck, not again,” Tommy stumbled against the wall, “Not _now._ I need dinner! Fuck off.”

Yet the inky black fingers of Drowsiness pulled at the edges of his mind. His bed beckoned. It was too early to sleep! And he _needed_ food. Tommy clutched his chest as the Drowsiness sucked at his soles, every step toward sunlight heavy as lead.

It _hurt._

He didn’t know when this stupid demon holed up in his mind, but not long after his exile and had a few proper days of a good cry. With lots of screaming. Yet at the end of processing what the fuck just happened, he noticed a new emptiness in his chest. It _had_ to be a demon like Tubbo sometimes rambled on about.

He didn’t like the pitying looks that Techno gave him after he explained it.

_“You can whisper to me and I’ll be there before you know it,” Technoblade rubbed his back, his voice lilted awkward but there was a hard edge to it, “Whenever it gets too much okay? I’ll bring what helps me.”_

_Tommy brightened, “You’ll give me a trident?”_

_“No, not weapons.” Techno huffed, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”_

Tommy didn’t know whatever Techno thought he meant, but he had the feeling that he hadn’t understood. Damn pig probably thought he was stupid. He veered toward his bed despite his best efforts. Gods, he felt _tired._

He glanced at the blue dye left on the bed stand. Ghostbur left them there with a smile before he went to visit Techno and Dad. Tommy reached for them. He sat on his bed with a thump.

He stared down at the blue dye. 

Ghostbur said it helped with sadness or whatever.

Nothing happened.

Instead the pit in his chest widened, damn it. Tommy squeezed the dye until it oozed through his fingers but he didn’t feel a drain on whatever the _fuck_ was going on in his head. He sniffled. Then growled as he threw it onto the floor.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he breathed through his nose, “What’s happening to me? I’m…”, he trembled, “I’m scared.”

He saw a flash of his wrists split open by his own sword.

“ ** _NO!_** ” Tommy shouted, “I’m not! I’m _not_ doing that! Shut up, shut up, this isn’t right. I’m getting my discs back. I’m gonna see Tubbo again, fuck you.”

The Drowsiness _yanked_ hard enough on his mind that for a split second, Tommy felt something go taut like a string then a **_snap_** _._

He blacked out, as he crumpled to a floor in a heap.

+++++

He drifted.

Tommy didn’t know where he was, his awareness still fuzzy, but he felt something solid in his hands. Round, well worn grooves into its flat surface, and warm. 

_You fuck everything up, isn’t it better to go?_

A golden field wavered like a mirage in front of him. His breath froze in his throat, he could see Henry grazing on the stalks. _Henry!_ Tommy drifted forward then stopped.

Henry looked up, black dewy eyes blinking. 

Tommy shook his head. No. Not yet. The inky blackness pressed harder on his back like a hand shoving him forward. **NO!**

He can’t‒he won’t‒this wasn’t in the _plan._

This isn’t right.

The afterlife came closer and closer, he could smell the honeysuckles and the soft earth freshly tilled with green buds.

He thrashed and punched at the empty air. At the _void_ that entrapped him. Fuck whatever sick Gods thought to take him now. He sucked in breaths through his teeth and tried to look back. He _hated_ Logstedshire but he had plans! Schemes! 

**Anger** , red hot and bright, burned through him enough to beat back the grubby fingers.

Tommy gasped as the grip tightened around him, almost like it was trying to shove him into a garbage disposal. He screamed as air flew past him. Golden light brightening and the aches of old scars and battle wounds fading just like in the fables promised for soldiers. He screwed his eyes shut. 

“Dad, I’m‒” Tommy choked out, tears spiraling away into the black, “Tubbo, I’m sorry.”

.

.

.

**_Now playing - Mellohi_ **

Huh?

Tommy looked down at the disc he held, he blinked down at it playing even without a jukebox. The purple edge at the center twinkled. He’d been holding on to it like a teddy bear ever since he entered this place and he didn’t even feel it. 

Soft notes whirled around his head then faded.

He turned his head, then followed the music, it’s not like he had a better idea. Tommy hung onto every note like a lifeline.

_“Think of it like a token of good luck!”_

_Techno’s cackle echoed, “Take what you need, boys!”_

_“Suck it green booy!!!!!” Wilbur laughed, “Woooo!”_

_Philza, Dad, ruffled his hair and tucked him into bed and kissed his forehead, “Good night son, I love you.”_

More memories bobbed past like buoys in an impossible ocean, marking the way, and Tommy clutched the disc closer to his chest.

_Nikki handed him a loaf of fresh bread from her bakery, warm and sweet._

_Fundy raised his arms up to him, asking to be held up, and Tommy swung the little fox onto his shoulders._

_Eret squeezed him into a hug, “I’ll take first watch tonight.”_

_Quackity sobbed into his chest after a nightmare, Tommy slept next to him in the cold cave of Pogtopia, he was still his friend even after everything._

The music grew louder. Closer. Tommy froze as his arms grew heavier with a new weight, then blinked back tears at a second disc. Two halves of a whole.

**_Now playing - Cat_ **

_“I thereby exile you,” Tubbo’s hair stuck to his face, his burn scars ominous in the flash of lightning strikes, “Dream, escort him out of my country.”_

_“You want to be a hero?_ **_THEN DIE LIKE ONE!”_ **

_“You’ll never be president, Tommy.”_

Tommy trembled as the music notes faded into the distance, the rest of the bread crumbs to wherever the music led, but he had to keep going. He drifted forward. 

**wOn’T bE woRTh iT...sTay!**

Tommy shook his head at the void, “You’re wrong. I’m not leaving them behind. As Dad told me, I got heart where I should’ve had brains. So sucks to be you.”

_Nikki handed him a loaf, carefully wrapped for his long trip ahead with Dream._

_Fundy’s silhouette against a cold October sky with flames that streaked across it where an old flag used to be._

_“Down with the revolution, boys!” Eret saluted as the walls came down, his eyes bright with a white glow over his sunglasses, “It was never meant to be.”_

_Quackity shoved him with a laugh into the crowd far below, “Get off the podium, it ain’t yours anymore!”_

Tommy ignored the bite of the discs cutting into his fingers, he had to keep going. He had to get back. Back to Tubbo, like he always planned from the _start._ Fuck laws, fuck the Gods, fuck this destiny bullshit. 

He had to say sorry to Tubbo first before he’ll even _allow_ himself to sleep six feet under. Didn’t matter if he got forgiven or not, but damn it all, it’s always been the two of them. He won’t go out like this without a goodbye.

An old memory bobbed past, blurry at the edges, fragile and weak.

_Dad’s blonde locks framed his vision, blue eyes shining down at him, “Happy birthday.”_

_“Why are we throwing this for him?” Techno’s voice distant, “It’s not like he’ll remember.”_

_“It’s his second birthday with us! Besides, it’s fun,” Wilbur’s laugh light and airy, “And I call dibs on shoving cake into his face later.”_

_His vision shifted as Dad pulled him out of the crib, “Boys, behave. And no weapons at the table.”_

_Techno didn’t have any scars yet, but he had butterfly bandages on his eyebrow. Wilbur wore his yellow sweater, but had the dark stains of mud stark against it. A birthday cake lit up the dark room, several candles already on it. Wilbur pulled himself out of Techno’s chokehold with a pout._

_Dad’s laughter echoed through his body._

Tommy blinked out of the memory.

He didn’t hear any more music notes. A ripple in the air stood in front of him, a portal, but it looked almost indiscernible from everything else. It simply looked _off_ from everything else in the black void.

Tommy looked down at his discs. 

Etched into the grooves it read, _TommyInnit’s memories (Volume 1 + Volume 2)._

“Oh,” Tommy said to himself, “That’s why I…”

He shook his head, “I can’t keep them waiting anymore. If this doesn’t work, I’m gonna start stabbing shit.”

Tommy shot himself into the portal before he could change his mind. Colors popped and whirled past him like a vibrant LSD-explosion but with him at the heart of it. He flinched at the thought. Smells and sights flew past him. Redwood trees, a reverse coaster, a fish in the ocean freed from war. 

A sensation like he’d been squeezed through a tube.

The discs in his arms threatened to fall, _no fuck that._ He held them until they cut into bone, he didn’t care if he couldn’t hold anything else again, he _saw_ what happened to Ghostbur. Memories mattered. They _mattered._

**POP!**

The world solidified around him, the smell of wood and the hush drops of rain outside and down his striped roof.

Tommy woke up dead.


	2. "Wait"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And you weaken your love_   
>  _And you hold it above your head_   
>  _Success is a song of the heart, not a song of your bed_
> 
> "Willow Tree March" by Paper Kites

Tommy woke up dead, but with all the certainty of walking into a classroom arse naked. He just _knew._ You don’t really miss details like that. He blinked blearily at the ceiling, raindrops beading through the tiles. Annoyance flickered through him, he thought he _fixed_ that a few weeks ago. Damn.

He glanced around but froze.

Bare feet hung lazily through the air, attached to muddy jeans and a stained white shirt. A rope tight around a broken neck, his own corpse swung, the rafters creaked with each perceptible motion. The rain-storm wailed at the walls.

The Prime Log kicked over underneath.

“What the fuck?” Tommy hissed, then reached back into his memories cause _what the fuck?_ He hissed as pain split open his head, “Ow, shit!”

Tommy sat up with a groan.

He didn’t feel the weight of the Drowsiness in his chest anymore. His thoughts clear and _hot_ like a fire stoked after a long night left alone. Tommy crossed his arms as he glared up at his corpse.

“I can’t believe I got murdered,” Tommy snarled, “Cause this is _bullshit_ and totally out of character. TommyInnit, Big Man, would _never._ And I would know!”

He stood up with a stretch, then froze as something jangled at his hip. His discs were tied to his belt. Not Cat and Mellohi but they _definitely_ looked like it. Tommy brushed a hand over them. Warmth passed through him like a hug.

Then looked harder at his own hand, “Oh gods, I’m a _ghost?_ ”

Tommy glowered up at his corpse. Right, of course. 

Light chatter and a giggle cut through his bitter thoughts. Oh, oh _no,_ he knew that giggle anywhere. Tommy straightened his shoulders. The voices laughed, then he heard hooves walk away but the giggles came closer.

“Oh, Tommy!” Ghostbur teased outside the door, “I brought back some mushroom soup. You like mushrooms right? It’s your favorite.”

 _Not my favorite,_ Tommy pouted.

Ghostbur swung open the door, “Tommy, are you sleeping ag—”

The bowls clattered to the floor as Ghostbur’s grey eyes widened, the edges of his form fading into static. Staring at the corpse in the middle of the room. Frozen stock still for only a moment, but then the creak of the rope seemed to snap him back.

Ghostbur **_SCREAMED._ **

Tommy flinched, “No no no, stop looking at me!”

Ghostbur didn’t hear him, his form flickering as he clawed at his cheeks, his wail long and unbroken with no need to take a breath.

Tommy flew forward in front of his brother, “It’s okay! I’m here!”

Nothing.

His yellow sweater darkened into a muddy brown, a worn coat formed around his shoulders, Ghostbur’s scream _wailed_ into a high feverish pitch. No, not Ghostbur anymore. Alivebur. Or _Wilbur_ as he died. A sword flashed in and out of his chest like a mirage.

“Stop!” Tommy pushed at him, but a chill crawled down his spine as his hands went through, “No, no, no I’m real. Gho— _Wilbur! Please!”_

Objects flung around the room, the walls shook and threatened to break away from their foundation, Wilbur’s hair flying from an invisible wind. The roof shattered. Rain poured through and the storm thundered all around them.

“ ** _WILBUR!_ **” Technoblade’s shout broke through the gall.

The scream broke into shuddering sobs as he rushed into Techno’s arms, but the ratty old coat didn’t dissipate. Wilbur hit into Techno’s broad chest as he muttered “ _Tommy, Tommy, Tommy he…”_ over and over again.

Technoblade looked up, his sword ready and shoulders tense.

“Oh, _Tommy,_ ” Techno’s voice wobbled, then threw his cloak around Wilbur’s shoulders as his weapons clattered to the ground, “Don’t look, it’s okay, it’ll be okay. I got this.” 

Techno moved to stand up but Wilbur yanked him back down, “Don’t leave me again.”

“Al-alright,” Techno never looked more out of his depth, but Tommy didn’t feel in the mood to laugh, “There, there, I’m here. I’m right here.”

Tommy looked away, _so am I._

He looked around the rest of the house, ignoring Wilbur’s wrecked sobs. Tommy had more important things on his mind. Like investigating his own murder scene. Hmm. His bed looked the same he left it. Then his eyes drifted to his bed stand.

A pile of letters was left on top of it.

_My own suicide notes no doubt._

Tommy picked one up labeled to Nikki, then almost yelped in surprise as it became translucent as the rest of him. He furtively glanced back to his brothers. They didn’t see a floating letter. Weird. He opened it.

_Dear Nikki,_

_I’m so sorry that it came to this, please tell Ranboo that the Bench is in his hands from now on. And maybe always was ever since I left. I really miss your hugs and I think you’ll take good care of—_

Tommy stopped reading.

It was his handwriting alright. He thought it would’ve been forged, but guess not, whoever did this wasn’t a sloppy murderer. Hypnosis? Blackmail? Threats? Tommy racked his brain for what happened after he blacked out. His memory was _perfect_ except for his own death.

He glanced down at the tear-stained note again, worse still, it even had thoughts written down that he’s _never_ told anyone else past his own head. A sincerity unable to be faked even under duress. Tommy shoved down the possibility he really _cracked_ and committed suicide.

No, he was murdered.

Tommy picked up the rest of the letters. All of them addressed to his friends and family in his scrawled shaky handwriting. He hesitated. No doubt Techno will look around and find these letters if he left them. 

A cold prickle across his arms, he didn’t want to burden them with his dying thoughts, even if he was hypnotized to write them. Was he really _ready_ to share them? Tommy stared down at the scrawl of _Technoblade_ across the envelope.

He’d been working on forgiving him.

But this letter wasn’t it.

Sincerity or not, Techno deserved better than a suicide note with an apology that Tommy wasn’t ready to give. He fiddled with the bundle of letters and contemplated on which one to leave. He had to leave _something._ His family deserved an explanation while he tried to figure this out. Or get better at being a ghost until people saw him.

He left the one addressed to _Ph1lza - Dad_ on his bed.

Everything else, he tucked into his inventory bag slung across his back. Hopefully, these letters never had to see the light of day again. Even now, he wanted to vomit at the _thought_ of Dad reading his suicide note. 

Gods, it would break him.

“Wilbur, listen to me, cmon Wilbur breathe,” Techno sighed as Tommy turned his focus back on his brothers, “Go outside, I’ll get him down. We have to bury him okay?”

Wilbur sniffled and nodded, “Okay, do...do we have diamonds? He liked them...”

Tommy’s eye twitched with irritation, “For decorating! Not for my _grave_ , assholes!!”

They ignored him.


	3. "Pigstep"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My world has turned so cold but I won't cry_   
>  _Cause icicles don't soften when they die_   
>  _So why should I?_   
>  _Why should I?_
> 
> "Icicles" by the Scary Jokes

Tommy floated to the side as he watched Techno usher Wilbur outside. He really didn’t know what else to do other than watch. It sucked. He knuckled the straps of his inventory bag as Wilbur hunched deeper into the cool blue fabrics of Technoblade’s cloak. His big brother _shook_ like a leaf in the wind. Headstrong and near unflappable Wilbur. 

_Near_ unflappable.

Tommy screwed his eyes shut from the memories of the red haze in Wilbur’s eyes. But he supposed even in his insanity, he was damn stubborn like a dog sinking its teeth into a struggling arm. He didn’t give up. 

Tommy looked down at his hands, he didn’t give up...

 _Right_?

He heard a sniffle, Tommy’s head shot up. 

“Techno?” Tommy whispered, “You alright, Big Man?”

Technoblade, destroyer of servers, violent anarchist and the best brother he’s ever known. Now on his knees picking up his weapons with shaking hands. Tommy floated closer and he could see the shine of silent tears slipping down even from underneath his pig mask. 

Techno slipped his sword to rest on his knees, his chin tilted down to look at it. Tommy didn’t know what to make of it. He’s never seen Techno cry but he should’ve guessed even then, he would be silent. Stony. A true big man.

Tommy huffed a sordid laugh, “Why would you cry over _me,_ pig bastard?”

Techno ran his hands over the blunt side of the sword then started to whisper. Tommy tilted his head. He moved closer. Then his chest _squeezed_ as he recognized the words.

Death rites, Techno was _praying_ to his damn Blood God, going on about a peaceful afterlife with no war, no countries, and certainly no nightmares to wake up to in the middle of night screaming.

The edges of his form glowed bright yellow. 

He smelled honeysuckles and a flash of a worn riverbed underneath a bedcover of a purpled night sky. 

Tommy shook his head and refused the outreached hand. Blood God could kiss his _ass_ about eternal rest. He heard a deep chuckle, and the shadow of a hand moved away. Tommy stuck his middle finger up in response.

Techno’s whispers trickled to a stop, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m _not_ sorry for sticking up for my ideals,” Techno said, his head bowed as Tommy scoffed, “But I’m sorry that I didn’t understand. How much _pain_ you were in to even…” He shuddered, “I couldn’t help you after all, with all of my priceless jewels and hours worth of grinding for the best tools, heh…I really am the worst brother aren’t I?”

“No!” Tommy rushed over to Techno’s side and wrapped him into a hug. His arms couldn’t even go all the way around his chest but it didn’t matter. Tommy buried his head deeper against Techno’s shoulder. “You’re not, you’re _not,_ it’s not what it looks like. I didn’t…”

Techno sniffled, an ugly sort that meant he swallowed back his own mucus, “Damn _fuck_. Fuck! I can’t even _avenge_ you because you didn’t get—”

_No, I did get murdered. Swear!_

“What am I going to tell Dad?”

He didn’t have an answer to that one.

But as Tommy squeezed him tighter in the hopes Techno could _feel_ it, the world shifted like someone put on a different filter. He blinked it back but the blurriness didn’t go away. A fuzzy red aura bubbled and popped off Techno’s shoulders like froth off a pot.

_HBomb gestured toward a bed, “Set your respawn point here, if you beat my course in under fifty deaths, I’ll hand over seven diamonds.”_

_Tommy pressed his hand against the pillow, the magic crackled up his arm with a buzz, “Why did you even build this?”_

_“For fun! And Techno, don’t forget to press it too.”_

_Techno raised an eyebrow but brushed the pillow too with his fingers, “Hope you have seven diamonds on you already, cause I’ll get it first try.”_

_Tommy cackled and hopped around, “Ask him why! Ask him, ask him, ask him!”_

_“Why?” HBomb asked._

_“_ **_Cause Technoblade never dies,_ ** _” Techno said as he rolled his eyes, but Tommy could see the twitches of a smirk._

Tommy gasped, “Holy shit!”

His brother never had a proper death in his _life._ He hasn’t even respawned since childhood. His damn aura _brimmed_ with all of the latent potential of respawns never used, the inherent spark of his life had never dimmed for a moment. Whole. Unbroken. Tommy pressed his nose against Techno’s fur-lined blouse, deeper into the aura, and he could _breathe._

A heartbeat thrummed through him.

His brother’s heartbeat.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and lost himself in his brother’s aura, soaking in the familiarity and steadfast determination that tasted like spuds. He hugged harder until he could taste ( _taste!)_ the bitter iron of his blood at the back of his throat. 

He hadn’t even noticed the aura moved in a new direction. It frothed and leapt outside of its pot. Red and pink bubbles dripped and splattered onto Tommy’s grimy shirt. Then faded underneath his form.

Tommy sniffled as he hugged his big brother, surrounded by him on all senses, wishing he could turn back the clock.

“Tommy?”

Tommy trembled as he buried his head deeper, he didn’t want to hear anything else. He didn’t want to hear more rites or crying. Or hell would Techno start begging now? Tommy shook harder.

“Tommy, can you hear me?”

Huh? Why would he—

A rough calloused hand moved through his locks, Tommy’s eyes shot open. His head whipped up to see Techno’s eyes staring back at him. The hand in hair didn’t go through him. It felt solid. Real. Technoblade’s red eyes crinkled, blinked rapidly, then Tommy yelped as he was pulled into a proper hug.

Tommy floundered as large arms encircled him, with one hand pressing tight against his head to his collarbone. 

“Tommy,” Techno’s voice wobbled, then stiffened back into his usual drawl, “You damn nerd, what are you doing back here?”

“I’m not a nerd!” Tommy squirmed in Techno’s hold, “Listen, I got murdered and you’re just doing death rites and shit. Like what the fuck? I came back cause I got a bone to pick with the dumb bitch who hypontized—”

Techno pulled back, “ _Murdered?_ ”

“Well, yeah,” Tommy blinked, “Duh?”

“Err…” Techno’s face twisted, “Do you remember how you died?”

“Well _no,_ ” Tommy pouted, “But I remember everything else! Like how you’re a damn pig bastard who betrayed Tubbo and shit. And I got exiled! But Techno, come on, this isn’t the shit I’d pull and I thought you _knew_ me better than that!”

“Tommy…”

He yanked himself out of Techno’s arms, “No! Don’t look at me like that! I’m always right. And I’m _right._ Trust me, I didn’t come back to throw myself a pity party.”

Techno propped his sword over his shoulder, “So murdered, then? You’re sure?”

“Yes!”

“Alright,” Techno shrugged, then stood up and moved toward his body, “But I’m not investigating while your corpse stinks up the place. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“When was the last time you washed your cloak?”

“Touché,” Techno slashed through the rope with a twist of his wrist, and caught his limp corpse with open arms, “But you know there’s a river right outside, right?”

He looked so damn _small_ in Techno’s arms. Never really noticed until now how little he’d eaten in the past several weeks. His clothes hung off him. He couldn’t look away as he caught every detail. His shirt grimy and stained from sweat, tears, and spots of blood he didn’t want to think about. 

“Tommy?”

Tommy pulled his eyes away and looked higher. Then twisted his mouth into a frown at his neck. It looked ugly. Red splotches just underneath the thick rope as if his blood vessels popped from the pressure. He hadn’t looked up at his face. _Didn’t_ want to look at his face. But he could see the purple-red tinge on his ears that spoke of long suffocation. But something was _off._

“Where’s my bandana?” Tommy whispered, as he twisted his fingers into his green bandana tied around his translucent neck, “Where is it? Techno, where is it?”

“Uh…” Techno glanced down, “Maybe you took it off?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t—”, Tommy shot over to his chests, “ _Where_ is it?”

He rummaged through his chests, throwing items over his shoulders as he went. Maybe he folded it away somewhere? But he wouldn’t take it off. No fuck that. It wasn’t in his chests. Tommy’s neck squeezed for a second, a millisecond, but it was enough to startle him short.

“Tommy?” Techno’s voice distant behind him like from down a tunnel, “I’ll take your body outside. Get uhm, started, with the digging. Take a moment.”

Tommy clutched his own neck and swallowed, “Ri-right, go do that. I’ll keep looking.”

Hooves clip-clopped outside and he shook his head. Tommy flew over to his bed and glanced beneath. He grimaced at the cobwebs, but empty. He snarled. Where did he put it? He would put it somewhere _important_. Where it wouldn’t get lost. Obviously. Not to mention people came by and griefed his house and tent sometimes, so he had to…

Put it in his ender-chest! Of course!

Tommy brightened and floated over to it, “Did I leave you in here? Heh.”

He clicked it open.

For a moment it didn’t register, then it came down on him all at once. _Not there._ It wasn’t...His breath shook as his vision blurred. Among the dusty discs and other jewels, he couldn’t even find a folded green bandana. Tubbo gave it to him. You don’t _lose_ gifts like that or you’d be an absolute right idiot. His best friend gave it to him. His…

Tommy’s neck squeezed and he couldn’t draw in a breath.

**_hIs fEeT sWuNg_ **

_I can’t breathe, it hurts, it hurts!_

_Can’t br…_

**_hELp mE!_ **

A compass glimmered from the chest, a blue enchanted shine to it, and Tommy could **_breathe_ **again. He gasped and wheezed. Sweet air hissed in through his teeth. He wrenched the compass out of the chest and threw it over his neck.

He wheezed in and out. 

_‘Your Tubbo’_ shimmered up at him, the edges now as translucent as him.

The red needle trembled toward a direction. Tubbo no doubt walking around and doing his President things. Kissing babies or whatever.

He adjusted his green bandana over it, “Fucking gave me a scare, but still, where the fuck is my bandana? I swear to god if I lost it before dying—” He froze, “Damn **_BASTARDS_ **took it! They killed me and took it as a trophy, what the fuck!”

Tommy glared into nothing, hoping to the Gods that his murderer(s) slipped on a banana peel. On top of a cliff. Over lava and lost all of their stuff. And that everyone laughed at them. Fuckers. 

Tommy flew up out of his ruined roof, he had to go check on Technoblade. His skin crawled as he saw a dirt pile just further off in the distance. He pushed himself past the fields and over his tent. The rainstorm had thrashed it to bits. Tommy shook his head and kept flying toward his brothers. 

He hovered to a stop as he realized exactly _where_ Techno took his body to. A burnt husk of a cottage loomed over the dirt mound in the front garden. Flowers all pulled out and roots bare to the light drizzle of rain. The storm had moved on to lighter pastures. Tommy drifted closer to the cottage.

 _Their_ cottage.

He could still see the carved pits in the tree trunks where Tubbo had planned to put his beehives. And he could see the rose bushes turned over on their roots. Broken petals stomped by every toss of dirt that Techno shoveled out of his garden. Tommy blinked back tears. 

Techno pushed up his sleeves again as he panted, “You know you could help?”

“I’m dead,” Wilbur said bitter and short, “What help am I?”

Techno rolled his eyes as he wiped away the mud on his cheek, “Plenty, Will. Like warning me about creepers or keeping an eye out.”

“Like creepers can hurt you,” Wilbur pulled Techno’s cloak tighter around himself, “Keeping an eye out for _what?_ Heh, you’re untouchable, why worry about anything?”

Tommy drifted closer until he hovered over Techno’s shoulder, “Boo!”

“Nice of you to drop in,” Techno drawled as Tommy pouted, “So do you like iron instead? Gold? Emeralds? What would you like for your coffin, Tommy?”

Tommy wiggled his nose, “Hmm, normally I’d say women but I don’t think it’s great for decorating a grave.”

Techno’s mouth twitched, “I can get you something like that if you’d like.”

“What? No!” Tommy yelped then he stuck out his tongue, “How about some flowers? And oh, a beehive nearby! So they can sting fuckers and cheer up Tubbo if he visits!” 

“ _When_ he visits, Tommy,” Techno corrected with an eyebrow raise.

“Who are you talking to?” Wilbur whispered, “I don’t see anyone.”

“Tommy?” Techno tilted his chin toward him, “He’s right there.”

Wilbur stared past him, “Are you sure?”

“As positive as an STD,” Tommy snapped, then as Wilbur dragged his eyes around more and more, “Stop it! I’m right here, stop pretending, it’s not funny.”

Techno leaned on his shovel, “You really can’t see him?”

“No.”

“Said he’s been murdered,” Techno shrugged as he went back to work, “Started cussing me out, you know how he is, when I said otherwise. Plus, he _did_ have a whole lot of enemies.”

Wilbur laughed, a short and halted sound, “Murdered? You saw him.”

Tommy groaned, “Don’t fall for it, Wilbur.”

“Yeah I _know_ ,” Techno said, then stopped to stare straight at Wilbur, “Then why was his neck broken?”

“What?” Wilbur and Tommy said in unison.

“I’ve seen hangings, _done_ some hangings, and this one doesn’t line up with them,” Techno shoveled past some iron ores, “The rafters aren’t high enough for him to fall long and hard enough to snap his neck. He would’ve squirmed like hell before his brain ran out of oxygen. Something’s not right.”

Tommy brushed his fingers against his bandana.

“That...that doesn’t mean anything,” Wilbur hissed, “So what if he _struggled_ until he broke his own damn neck? You know he’s always made things harder on himself.”

“He doesn’t have his bandana either.”

“So?”

Techno turned to look up at Tommy, “Did you find it, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head mutely.

“He said he couldn’t find it,” Techno said, his voice carefully tight, “Anyone could’ve walked in and taken it. He died from anywhere between two and three hours ago. And there’s also this.”

Techno pulled a crumpled paper from his back pocket and tossed it up at Wilbur’s feet. Tommy shot forward to read it over Wilbur’s shoulder. Holy shit. He hadn’t even realized Techno _did_ investigate his murder scene after all.

Wilbur gingerly unrolled the paper, “This is…”

“Parts of an exorcism,” Techno reached up to tap the cursive of the Enchant language, “I know it’s been a while but I’m pretty sure it is.”

Wilbur crumpled the paper again, “Technoblade.”

“Wilbur.”

“It’s not Tommy,” Wilbur said as he shrugged off Techno’s cloak, shadows flickering over his features, “Whoever you’re talking to, it’s not him. If it was, I would see him too, and look!” He raised his arms, “He’s not _fucking_ here!”

Techno winced, “Ah, right, but I’ll figure out why eventually.”

“Eventually? Oh I can just tell you right now!” Wilbur shot to his feet, “He committed _suicide!_ I think, just more than a tad bit, that you’re _projecting._ He’s not here. _Murder_? Then what’s that letter in your back pocket?”

Techno flinched.

“Ha, right,” Wilbur’s coat fluttered around him as he loomed over the pit, “Thought so. I don’t need you to _crack_ too, Techno. I’m only looking out for you.”

“Oh bugger off,” Tommy stuck out his tongue and flipped him off as he drifted past, “I totally didn’t miss this version of you. I want Ghostbur back.”

Techno knuckled his shovel, “Call it like it is, Wilbur, you think I’m crazy.”

“Well, it would run in the family wouldn’t it?”

“Perhaps...someone tried to exorcise his spirit to give him rest,” Techno said as he rubbed his chin, “And he mistakenly thought it was murder.”

“I don’t remember anyone exorcising me! And you’re not _listening_ to me!!”

“Exactly,” Wilbur’s eyes gleamed with a fervent energy, “Tommy’s always been so emotional, never _thinks_ with his head, you remember the Pit don’t you? Don’t you?” He squatted down to meet Techno’s eye-level, “He hasn’t been _himself_ for the past six years since his exile, I remember now, went through his Blue like tissue paper.”

Wilbur tapped on Techno’s forehead, “His biggest problem was right up here, not his enemies, Techno. You and I both know that.”

Techno looked away.

“Don’t listen to him!” Tommy shouted, “You’re a right ass, Wilbur! Deadbur? I don’t know but I don’t give a fuck! Techno, I didn’t, _I didn’t_ kill myself!”

“What’s he saying?” Wilbur whispered, the edges of voice had a faint buzz to it.

“Pissed off,” Techno brushed off Wilbur’s finger, “Insists he didn’t kill himself.”

“Funny.”

“What?”

“Well not so funny, but he didn’t deny his Blue addiction now has he?” Wilbur said, then his mouth twisted upwards as Techno nodded, “It seems not even your subconscious can argue against that.”

Tommy recoiled.

Techno didn’t answer, instead he straightened his shoulders and went back to work. The edges of his mouth tight and his muscles twitched underneath his jaw. He worked in silence as the sun crept further down into the sky. The shadows grew long and the fireflies buzzed and flickered among what remained of the garden.

Tommy rubbed the edges of his compass underneath his bandana, too many thoughts churned in his head. Only the faint electric static of magic kept him grounded. A reminder of who he _really_ came back to see.

Techno made his coffin from the scrapes of his cottage, whatever planks survived the initial blast of Dream’s petty explosion. Then pulled out crying obsidian from his ender-chest (how does he carry it everywhere in his inventory bag?) to line the actual pit. Probably to keep the worms from gnawing on his bones, no matter how deserved.

Techno wrapped his corpse in his royal blue cloak, and tied pieces of gold and diamonds through the linen layers, despite Tommy’s efforts to disabuse him of the notion. Jewels never really appealed to him. But there was a steady certainty in adorning his corpse that Tommy didn’t really have the heart to truly assail him on it.

Techno paused for a moment as he held his mummified corpse, standing over his grave. Then quick as a flash, pressed a kiss to his forehead. The look on his big brother’s face was indescribable. Tommy’s chest _squeezed_. He’d never really thought Techno would…

Techno’s face smoothed back into serious again as he carefully laid the body down into its coffin. Wilbur said his own goodbye by pressing their foreheads together, then laid a gentle kiss on his brow. Techno nailed it shut and in a few quick minutes, they stood over his grave. Techno’s shovel patted down the dirt until it laid as flat as the rest of the garden. 

Techno pulled up his hair into a bun and rolled up his sleeves again. He fixed the rose bushes back into their proper place and even re-planted a few on his grave. Tommy really shouldn’t be surprised that Techno already had honeycombs in his ender-chest as he constructed a bee-hive in an overhang behind his grave. Bees buzzed around them, quickly summoned by their new home. Wilbur floated over with a few pieces of wood and handed it over, Tommy tilted his head, but Techno crafted a jukebox in moments. It stood next to his gravestone, waiting for two discs that may never meet. 

The three of them stared at his grave, bright red flowers blooming out of it and the gentle buzz of bees drifting among the fields, the closest he’ll ever get to the picturesque life he’ll never get with Tubbo.

“He...he needs a gravestone,” Wilbur croaked out, “He deserves one at least.”

Techno pulled out a piece of smooth stone, already two steps ahead, kneeling in the wet grass as he carved out cursive letters with the edge of his pick-axe.

Stars twinkled far above them now. The sun long gone now. Tommy never really appreciated the night before. He looked down at his hands, the dark grass wavy through his own form like a bad lens. Or like looking at a telescope the wrong way. The night air had a sticky warmth to it. Like the languid ooze of lava.

“There,” Techno said as he stood up, he finished hammering in his gravestone, “I think that’s about right.”

_TommyInnit Minecraft_

_Beloved Son, Warrior, Best Friend_

_“Hero of the Village”_

“Really?” Wilbur said, an odd tilt to his voice, “Hero?”

Techno brushed his fingers over his gravestone, “Good night, Theseus. You saved everyone, you slayed the Minotaur, but—” His shoulders shook, “You couldn’t write yourself a happier ending, could you?! You couldn’t have proved me **_wrong_** _._ ”

Tommy hugged himself, “Good things don’t happen to heroes, Techno. You already know that, Big Man.”

Technoblade flinched.

“Doesn’t really deserve the warrior title does he?” Wilbur drawled, picking out a lighter from his breast pocket and took a long draw from a cigarette, “He lost every duel he was in if I remember. Perhaps this was for the best, a proper ending for a weak soldier.”

Techno slowly turned around to look at him, “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Wilbur tapped his cigarette, smoke lazily drifting off, “Less likely to make problems for everyone else now.”

Techno pulled him down by the lapels of his coat, “He’s not your soldier, Wilbur, he’s your baby brother. You made a dumb little nation and pulled him into wars he _didn’t_ need to get himself involved in,” He snarled as he yanked Wilbur further down to eye-level, “Don’t you remember Tommy following you around like a little duck when you were kids? He _loved_ you to the moon and back.”

Wilbur blinked for a moment, “Well...no.”

“Hah?”

“Hmm, well I’m not Ghostbur anymore,” Wilbur wrinkled his nose in disgust, “But not exactly Wilbur either. I remember every dark, smelly, and damn _depressing_ part of my life. The bright good spots aren’t there anymore. Just poof! Vanished! But not much of a loss really. Ain’t that funny?”

Techno shoved him away, “So what do you remember?”

“A mouthy little soldier,” Wilbur shrugged, then pulled out a bag, labeled with _Blue_ in cutesy writing, “I don’t need this anymore. But I thought you’d need it more now.”

Techno slapped the bag away, “No, I don’t need your drugs.”

“Boo,” Wilbur drawled, then glanced down at his grave again, “It’s fading away from me now, he was my brother, but in the same way you’d know you have a cousin somewhere. I feel sad. But he got himself exiled, didn’t he? Then fucking killed himself. What a child, didn’t even explode anything on his way out.”

Tommy whimpered as he curled further into himself, “I’m not...I’m not a child.”

“You’re wrong, Wilbur,” Techno said, his face wrinkled like all of the weight of the years came down on him at last, “He didn’t explode anything cause he didn’t want to ruin any of Tubbo’s hard work. Stand back now, I have to give him his proper rites.”

Wilbur scoffed but took another draw of his cigarette.

“You’re a right ass,” Tommy hissed into Wilbur’s ear, then pouted as Wilbur did nothing, “I mouthed off to you cause you went fucking _insane_! I hope you meet Schlatt wherever you go when you finally move on.”

Tommy paused, “No, I don’t really mean that, but what the fuck, man?”

Techno kneeled in front of his grave and muttered his rites with his hands clasped. He would roll his eyes if he didn’t feel so damn touched. Neither Wilbur nor Schlatt got an actual proper funeral. So it didn’t feel fair to be picky about what rites Techno used for him.

His eye twitched as Techno used the _warrior_ rites over his grave.

Tommy drifted closer to Techno’s side, “Err, not to rain on my own death parade, but I didn’t die in battle, Big Man.”

“Wasn’t a physical one, no,” Techno whispered back out of the corner of his mouth, “It takes true strength to have held out for as long as you could, six years contemplating suicide every day, and not doing it.”

Tommy hesitated, then reached down to hold his discs, and they answered.

_He stared down at the bubbling lava, the heat made his skin taut and dry. He visited the Nether every day at sundown on the dot. Walk around the Home Portal seven times. Then stare at the lava for however long he could stand._

_He didn’t care if he went blind early, at least then he wouldn’t have to look at the damned fields of Logstedshire anymore._

_Would Tubbo come out?_

_Find him here at the edge, his toes wiggling over the cliff. What would he do? Say? Tommy lost himself in the dreams of What-Ifs and Never-Wills._

_Tubbo never came._

Tommy blinked himself out of the memory then croaked out, “Yeah I did...but I never wanted to actually…” He shook his head, “I was murdered.”

Techno’s rites faltered, then continued on, steady and careful like he didn’t want to mess up a single line. Tommy wondered when Techno found himself the time to memorize it all. He rubbed his arm. He’d been murdered, he was _murdered, and thinking_ was different than _actually_ going through with it.

He would rather live a thousand years in absolute agony if it meant he’d see Tubbo again at the end of it. Maybe even wait until New L’Manberg crumbled into dust. Outlast an entire _nation_ if it came to it. Then Tubbo could come visit!

Techno stood up as his knees popped with the strain, “We have to go tell Dad.”

Wilbur winced, “Is that really the best idea?”

Techno summoned his trident into his off-hand, “Why not?”

Wilbur opened his mouth but with a _splash_ of a water bucket, Techno was already off into the distance. For a moment, both ghosts hovered dumb-founded, at the sheer _gall._ Tommy’s whole forehead twitched.

Wilbur snarled, then flew off after the distant hops of Techno’s trident shooting through the air. Tommy shouted profanities as he sorta swam-flailed through the air, cause flying as a ghost wasn’t _easy,_ he just died! There had to be an adjustment period for such things! Tommy swore bloody murder as Wilbur did the same below, as they both witnessed a particularly far jump.

“Damn pig bastard…”

* * *

Tubbo watched the sun set over his nation, the Chinese lanterns blinkered higher into the sky as citizens relit their candles. They floated lazily through the air. Tubbo saw Ranboo giggling with Nikki far below. She ruffled his hair, no doubt laughing over some joke. His heart squeezed, picturing Tommy’s own hands ruffling his hair. He shook his head at the memory. He watched his citizens make the usual antics of getting ready for the night.

Fundy closed his Ice Cream shop, flipping the sign from open to closed. Quackity slunk out of whatever scheme he got himself embroiled in, and started to make his way up toward El Rapids. Tubbo sat back in his chair as he watched peace unfold in his country’s streets.

Hard-won peace with political maneuvering and without the brute ham-fisted way of war. Yet, at the end of every day, he sat up here. His heart twisted painful and sharp with every giggle and laughter.

Tubbo pulled his compass out from underneath his red tie (from the fabric of his usual red bandana) and he looked at the etched words of _‘Your Tommy’._

He frowned down at it, “That’s odd.”

The needle spun in all directions, not like the lazy spins whenever Tommy went through the Nether, but a frantic sort of motion to it instead. Tubbo tilted his head. He’s never seen a compass do that before. Tubbo flipped it over to read any errors.

_[NOT FOUND]_

Tubbo’s blood ran cold, that only happened whenever the other part of a compass got destroyed. But that couldn’t be right. Maybe he looked at the compass while Tommy was respawning and he dropped the compass? Maybe? Ghostbur never really told him what Tommy did with his half of the compass.

Tubbo dropped it back into its hiding place under his tie, “It’s probably nothing. It’ll be normal tomorrow.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, but the cold feeling didn’t abate at all. Tubbo looked around. He was alone. He checked again for a smiling mask in the shadows. Nothing. Tubbo pulled out a yellowed crinkled photo from his chest pocket, his best friend grinned up at him, Tommy’s smile bracketed by those dumb braces. His mouth twitched into a smile. 

“Stay safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some kudos and comments!! it encourages me to churn out updates faster
> 
> which is a good thing considering content in this fandom move _FAST!_
> 
> like fuck dude, GIVE US TIME TO BREATHE!!!!!


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